Page:Weird Tales Volume 2 Number 2 (1923-09).djvu/34

 A Remarkable Article, Translated from the Frenche "Histoire De La Magie" of Alphonse Louis Constant, Paris, 1860. Prepared for WEIRD TALES by C. P. OLIVER

N THE entire history of mankind, there is no stranger or more weird story than that of Gilles de Laval, Baron of Raiz and Marshal of France. A brave and gallant soldier under Charles VII, the services of Gilles de Laval to France could not counterbalance the extent and enormity of his crimes.

All tales of devils and sorcerers were realized and surpassed by the terrible deeds of this fantastic scoundrel, whose history has been engraved upon the memory of children under the name of Bluebeard, for the fable by that title was written around the crimes of the Lord of Raiz.

Gilles de Laval had indeed so black a beard that it seemed to be almost blue, as is shown by his portrait in the Salle de Marechaux, at the Museum of Versailles.

A Marshal of France, de Laval was a brave man; being rich, he was also ostentatious; and he became a sorcerer because he was insane.

The insanity of the Lord of Raiz became manifested, in the first instance, by his sumptuous devotion to religion and by his extravagant magnificence.

When he went abroad, he was preceded by cross and banner; his chaplains were covered with gold and velvet; and he had a choir of little pages, who were always richly clothed.

But, day by day, one of these children was called before the marshal and was seen no more by his comrades; a newcomer succeeded him who disappeared, and the children were sternly forbidden to ask what had become of the missing ones, or even to refer to them among themselves.

These children were obtained by the marshal from poor parents, whom he dazzled by his promises, and whom he pledged to trouble no further concerning their offspring, who, according to his story, were assured a brilliant future.

The explanation is that, in his case, seeming devotion was the mask and safeguard of infamous crimes.

Ruined by imbecile prodigality, the marshal desired at any cost to create wealth.

A believer in alchemy, he had exhausted his last resources in the pursuit of his hobby, and loans on usurious terms were about to fail him; he therefore determined to attempt the last and most execrable experiments of Black Magic, in the hope of obtaining gold by the aid of hell.

An unfrocked priest, a Florentine named Perlati, and Sille, who was the marshal's steward, became his confidantes and accomplices.

Gilles de Laval had married a young and beautiful woman of high rank only a few months before, whom he kept practically a prisoner in his castle at Machecoul, which had a tower with the entrance walled up.

A report was spread by the marshal that this tower was in a ruinous state and that no one sought to penetrate therein.

Notwithstanding this, Madame de Laval, who was frequently alone during the night hours, saw red lights moving to and fro in this tower; but she did not venture to question her husband, whose bizarre and somber character filled her with extreme terror.

N Easter Day in the year 1440, Marshal de Laval, having taken solemn communion in his chapel, bade farewell to his wife, telling her that he was departing for the Holy Land to join the Crusades; the poor creature was even then afraid to question him, so much did she tremble in his presence.

Before leaving, the marshal informed her that he was permitting her sister to visit her during his absence, and as he spoke the sister, Annie by name, arrived.

After her husband's departure, Madame de Laval communicated to her sister her fears and anxieties.

What went on in the castle every night?

Why was her lord so gloomy and what signified his repeated absences?

What became of the children who disappeared day by day?

What were those nocturnal lights in the walled-up tower?

These and other questions excited the curiosity of both women to the utmost.

What could they find out during the marshal's absence?

He had forbidden them expressly even to approach the tower, and before leaving had repeated this injunction, but woman's curiosity could not thus be conquered, and the two women set out to seek the entrance to the forbidden tower.

It must assuredly have a secret entrance, argued Madame de Laval, and after an hour's search throughout the lower rooms of the castle, the two two women found a copper button located in the chapel and behind the altar, which yielded to pressure and caused a stone to slide back, revealing the lowermost steps of a staircase, which led them to the condemned tower.

At the top of the first flight there was a kind of chapel, with a cross upside down and black candles; on the altar stood a hideous figure, representing the devil.

On the second floor they came upon furnaces, retorts, alembics, charcoal—in a word, all the apparatus of alchemy. The third flight led to a dark chamber, where a heavy and fetid atmosphere compelled the two young women to retreat.

Madame de Laval came into collision with a vase, which fell over, and she was conscious that her robe and feet were soaked by some thick and unknown liquid. On returning to the 33